


Kalluzeb Angst (Hey I Tried)

by Phoenixablaze24



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:00:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29879439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenixablaze24/pseuds/Phoenixablaze24
Summary: He thought his Sasha was dead. Taken by the Empire and gone before he could save him.But here he is, in the flesh.(AKA: The one where Rebel Kal sacrificed himself to save Zeb and is recovered by the Empire and rehabilitated. Prompt found on tumblr, one sec while I check who posted it... coldishcasecreats?? I'm sorry I still don't know how AO3 works and I've been here for years now (^_^'))
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Kalluzeb Angst (Hey I Tried)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey my dudes, back at it again with Yet Another Hot Unbeta-ed Mess!!! Now with (probably) even more errors and mistakes!!! 
> 
> Honestly I dont even know what the hell this is. Probably incredibly OOC, I dont even know. But hey I can't do plot but I tried anyway. It says angst but not really because I Can't Do That Either I just want these two to be all tender and happy goddamnit. 
> 
> I saw this prompt on tumblr a bit ago and honestly the concept has just been living rent free in my head ever since soooo yeah. Enjoy? No smut yet tho. Will get there eventually.
> 
> (There is mention of being date-rape drugged, which I've never been so is most likely inaccurate. But still, fair warning just in case)

He's alive.

Kal's alive and Zeb is so overwhelmed with relief and happiness and pure goddamn euphoria he doesn't see the man's eyes. 

He doesn't notice them until he steps closer, a hushed, unbelieving "Sasha" escaping him. Those eyes sharpen, brows furrow even further, mouth twisting in disgusted confusion. Zeb freezes at the expression, ears swivelling back. That's not-

"How do you know that name?" It's an icey voice that lashes at him accusingly. And in that moment he knows that's not his Sasha. Knows it in his heart. But he has to try. He has to. He's alive and in front of him, black armored uniform be damned he has to. 

"Ya told me," he says slowly. "Don't ya remember?"

Kal's face darkens even further, confusion laced with anger and distrust. "I never said any such thing to you, lasat."

That's what does it. The 'lasat'. Spat at him like an insult all on it's own. Zeb carefully draws back. "You don't remember."

"I don't know how you learned that name," Kal growls as he raises his weapon, "but I would never share something like that with the likes of you, rebel scum." 

Zeb fights only because his instinct tells him to. When the first blow from the man he loves swings at him he has to block. Parry. Pivot for a counter. But when there's an opening he can only bring himself to retreat, pushing back all the while. He can't do this. Kal notices.

"Scared, lasat?" Kallus taunts. "Retreating like the coward you are." Another blow, rifles crossed, Kal pushes into it with a grimace. "Just like you did all those years ago on Lasan."

The anger that spikes in Zeb fuels an attack. He pushes back, uses Kal's stagger as an opportunity. Its graceless, juvenile, a flurry that's basically just brute force. He's going to hurt him. He has to get away. Has to - wait.

He grabs Kallus' weapon on the next attack, holds it there, fist shaking with the pain, the energy crackling between them. "How did ya know that?"

Kallus laughs cruelly, knowing he struck a nerve. But then that smirk slips as the words register. His posture does too and that's when Zeb manages to properly counter attack and pin him down.

He holds him there on the floor of the imperial ship, hand squarely on his chest, staring at him with fangs bared. He asks the question again through the growl in his throat. "How did ya know that, Alex?"

He only ever told Kal about that part of Lasan when they were together. So he must remember something. He has to remember something. Whatever they did to him, whatever bastard memory shite they did to him, he has to remember something to bring up Lasan like that. 

Something happens. Kal stops struggling. Goes practically slack beneath him. His face is flushed and confused and his eyes change for the briefest of moments. They soften, trail down as if distracted, all before snapping right back up to look at him. He looks vulnerable. Familiar. If Zeb were to fool himself he could believe that it's his Sasha looking up at him like that, hair askew and hands gently holding his..

Footsteps. Lots of them. He has to get out of there.

He flees. Only glancing back for a split second to see Kal still on the floor, on his knees now, weapon dropped and a hand gripping the front of his armour.

-_-_-

The next time they cross rifles, its after a long time of both of them keeping distance. Kal initiates.

"I have information," he almost gasps. "Knock me out and take me with you." 

Zeb doesn't know what to do. Is this a trap? But then Kal moves closer, steps faltering and says "make it look good."

So he does. He makes it look good and carries the man over his shoulder back to the Ghost. He gets some funny looks before he explains himself. 

"How do we know he's even telling the truth?" Ezra asks. "What if he has a tracker on him or something?"

"Do ya think I ain't thought of that? Chopper's runnin' a scan as we speak."

"I'm just saying maybe you're too close to this to make the call to-" the kid pauses. "He's awake."

"I'll go."

"Like hell you will."

"I'm going."

-_-_-

He's having a conversation with the droid when they go speak to him, lifting his arm this way and that so Chopper can do his thing. It's so domestic and familiar Zeb's heart aches.

"I don't know how you know me the way you seem to," Kal says in a small voice. "But I want to know how it happened." He hands over a data spike, holding it out in the air like an olive branch between them. "I found information on Project Rehabilitation, as well as some other projects I think you'll all want to know about. You can have it. All I ask is you help me remember who I was. Who I am beyond the Empire." 

Zeb reaches out, closes his hand over Kals holding the spike. "Ya daft idiot. Of course we'll help ya."

-_-_-

Kal kept the meteorite.

Its only a tiny pebble of a thing now, but he kept it. Its the only possession he brought with him other than the clothes on his back and the data spike. It was important, he knew it was. It's the only thing that seems to keep the nightmares at a manageable level, so he couldn't bring himself to leave it.

He'd found it in a hidden pocket of his mattress when he was finally allowed back into his old quarters. For some reason he'd been kept in the med bay for way longer than was needed, and now he knew why. When he was back in that room, sat in the dark and thinking, things just didn't make sense. Simple things, like the look of his walls, of the ceiling as he stared at it in the night, sleepless. Things felt wrong, like he didn't fit properly in the space he occupied, like his own skin didn't sit right on his body. It'd never felt this bad before.

He knew something was wrong the first night he finally slept in that room. 

And then he found the meteorite. 

Its glow was comforting in a way he couldn't ever describe. Just looking at it calmed him, made the thoughts stop itching long enough to actually sleep.

After that first night he decided he needed it on him constantly. He didn't know what it was or where it came from but he felt he needed it for something. So he kept a tiny piece of it on him like a talisman. 

When the lasat sees it in his hand on Yavin, something changes in him.

"Where'd ya get that?" He asks gesturing to the now worry-smooth stone.

Kal hesitates. They're out in the open supervising a shipment. Being idle always made him anxious, so it's no surprise he'd absently reached for the stone. But then he takes a breath, holds it more firmly, lifts it to eye level in front of him for the first time ever while in company. 

"I... don't rightly know," he says. "I found it in my quarters. Or rather, I found the meteorite it came from in my quarters." He turns it this way and that in the light, the warmth it radiates comforting him in this moment of vulnerability, urging him on. "It was hidden, so I guessed that it had something to do with my time aiding the rebellion."

He turns to the lasat and sees him smiling. It's only a small smile, but Kal finds he likes it being there on his face. "You know something." 

"Aye," Zeb says, smile brightening slightly and revealing one pointed tooth. "That I do."

But he waits. He always waits for Kal to ask the questions. Never assumes anything, never pushes too far too soon. And because of this and many other things, Kal has found a fast friend in the big, purple, sometimes infuriatingly handsome lasat. 

He understands now how he may have once let slip the name 'Sasha'. And maybe even understood how a past version of him may have accepted the lasat calling him such.

"Tell me."

-_-_-

He settled in surprisingly well, Zeb thinks. After a lengthy period of verification, a testing period, and then an even longer period of adjustment, the man made a beeline for a job in information. The exact same job he'd had before the memory problems. 

Sometimes Zeb will see him across the hanger, making conversation with some captain or other, and he'll feel the old urge to walk over and give him a pat on the shoulder, a quick kiss, a slap on the ass. Just something to fluster him some, just like he used to. 

But then Kal will turn, see him looking from across the way, and wave casually. 

It hurts. It hurts so fucking much. But he has to keep it together. What other choice did he have? Just walk over there and say 'hey Kal, I know ya barely remember any of the interactions we've had for the past year or so but we were soul bonded in lasat culture at one point so yeah, I'm madly in love with ya. Okay ciao see ya at lunch, my treat'.

It just didn't work that way. Even Hera had agreed with him to just hold back on all the big stuff for now. You just don't know what that kinda stuff can do to a brain and he's not willing to find out. They were friends again now. Things were levelling out, going well, even.

But damnit if those urges aren't really fucking strong sometimes. And sometimes - sometimes - he swears Kal just looks at him in That Way. The one that used to mean 'I need to be held', or 'I need you near me', or even 'please just kiss me'. And he wants to do those things. He wants to do them so fucking badly but he can't because he's terrified of scaring him away, or possibly causing more harm than good for his recovery. He's come so far it'd destroy Zeb to know that he was the one who fucked it all up because of a stupid hug.

No. It's better to keep his distance for now. Friendship on Kal's terms. He can do that.

He waves back, Kal smiles, and Zeb seriously considers the possibility of this being the thing to finally kill him.

-_-_-

They're... close now. Or at least Kal likes to think they are. They spend a lot of down time together, lunch is an on going game with a tab a mile high they swear one of them will pay when the other finally loses. Even right now they're on a mission together, like they do quite regularly nowadays. 

Textbook recon mission. Piece of cake in theory. But Zeb is suddenly acting strange, aloof, talking in clipped, one syllable answers. And Kal can't rightly figure out why.

So he just comes out and says it.

"Have I done something to upset you, Garazeb?"

He bristles, fur standing on end, eyes shifting to him for a split second before turning back to the void of space. "What makes ya say that?"

Kal swivels in his chair to fully face the lasat, but he very deliberately doesn't do the same. "Don't give me that, Zeb. You seem on edge." He leans forward, elbow to knee, hand in hair, brushing it back. "Was it something I said?"

Zeb sighs, his broad shoulders drooping as if he held the weight of the world on them. "Nah, Kal. You've done nothin'. Just..." he looks over his shoulder. "One of those days."

Kal hums in response, audibly unconvinced. If the lasat didn't want to give him a proper answer yet then that was fine. They'd finish this mission, head back for a drink, and he'd probably tell Kal then. As for right now though, it's none of his business.

Even if the sight of those sad ears makes his stomach sink.

-_-_-

Turns out the inn they were supposed to survey the mark in was also a bar. And by 'also a bar' Kal meant 'mostly a bar'. 

Who was he kidding, it was basically just a bar with some side rooms people fell into occasionally. Probably part brothel too, if his observations told him anything. Scantily clad twi'leks of all shapes and colours frolicked around, gliding from table to table with different drinks and orders. Drapes of red cloth hung from various places and the light was so dim it was basically nonexistent.

"Cozy," he says before leaning more towards Zeb. "You're sure these are the coordinates Hera gave us?" 

He pretends he doesn't see how the lasat subtly steps away. Pretends it doesn't make his chest feel tight. 

"Yeah, I'm sure." He gestures to a booth at the far back. "We better grab a seat. Might take a while."

So they do, they park themselves across from eachother in the booth right at the back, Zeb soon leaving to go get them both drinks. Kal doubts they'd sell anything here actually worth drinking, but all the better to blend in with. He watches the lasat go, regretfully letting his gaze linger longer than was strictly necessary before he quickly adjusts his large rimmed hat. He pulls it down to cover more of his face as he settles in for the long wait.

There's candles and incense burning somewhere, Kal can smell it mixed with the stale musk in the air. The one that makes his breath feel thick in his lungs. It's hot and humid and horrible. 

The sooner they got this over with, the better.

-_-_-

Someone's talking to Kal.

No, let him rephrase. Someone is flirting with Kal and Zeb is hard pressed to not just march over there and-

"Your order, sir," the busty twi'lek behind the bar says, only partially distracting him from some those stupid, angry thoughts. Oh yeah, he knew what this feeling was, felt it regularly around the rebel base when seeing a certain pilot make eyes at Kal when he walks by. The blond never responded to it, never even seemed to acknowledge it, but that didn't stop the white hot spike of jealousy from piercing Zeb on the regular.

And now it's happening here, in a seedy bar where they need to stay and be inconspicuous while doing it. But how was he going to do that when this green fleshy fuck keeps running his fingers over his Sasha's arm and - ah, there goes the hat, and there goes his last little shred of self control. He pays the barkeep, takes the drinks with a lot more force than is necessary, and heads on over like a man on a warpath.

But then he sees when Kal's eyes meet his, the relief in them when the blond sees him coming back is goddamn palpable and the anger leeches out of him in an instant.

"Dear, what took you so long,' he says as he takes a drink, sips it like it's not the hardest thing on the menu, and then shoos the man next to him away to supposedly make room for Zeb to sit. "I was saving you a seat when this lovely gentleman offered me a drink." 

Zeb takes a moment to physically recover from the word 'dear' before he follows Kal's eyes flicking to the drink in question. It was a luminous pink and covered in a dash of smoke which seemed to be strategically placed to hide some rather conspicuous bubbles. 

"I did tell him only you knew what I like, dear, but he just wouldn't listen." And with that Kal settles back and sips at the swill neither of them had been intending to actually drink, just to make a point.

Zeb stays standing for a second, if only to take advantage of his height to further intimidate the nuisance of a man as he stares him down. He places a hand down on the table to lean over, "wouldn't he, now."

-_-_-

Thank the stars Zeb had come back. Kal could take care of himself. Of course he could, but nothing diffused a situation quite like a big, intimidating lasat threatening to pummel you within an inch of your life with only his stare.

The man left with no more than an irritated huff and took his spiked drink with him. Kal made sure to bunch the rug under his feet so the man would trip on his way out, spilling the drink all over the floor and himself in the process. He smiled calmly. One more sick fuck of a predator denied his lure.

Once the man is fully out of sight he spits the foul liquid back into his cup and mutters, "I think I just drank paint thinner."

Zeb laughs heartily at that. "And here I thought you'd somehow built up a tolerance."

The lasat sits back across from him, suddenly a lot more chipper than before as he takes a swig of his own drink and instantly grimaces. "Yeah, no. Yer right. That tastes like somethin that'd come out of Chopper."

It was Kal's turn to laugh then, noticing his hair falling over his eyes and brushing it back out of habit. He can't believe the guy actually took off his hat like that. And that he just. Touched him. On the arm. When he was clearly very much not into it. The nerve of some people.

He reaches for where his hat had been placed on the back of the booth seat. Better put it back on lest someone somehow recognises him. All the while, though, Kal has the feeling like he's already being watched. A glance up under the rim of his hat proves he was correct. Those big green eyes he'd grown awfully fond of over the last few months were staring at him with that soft, faraway look they sometimes had. 

Strangely enough, he didn't feel like he minded being watched at all when it was Zeb doing it. Especially when he was looking at him like that. As if he was worth his attention. As if he was the most captivating sight to ever exist.

He could physically feel his cheeks flushing and ducked his head instinctively to hide the evidence under his hat. Get yourself together you idiot. You have a mission to do. Handsome lasats staring at you like they want to kiss you be damned. Get the mission done.

He sips his drink again out of habit and practically does a spit take. Zeb laughs again but louder, from the chest. And Kal finds he likes that sound a hell of a lot.

It'll be fine. They can do this.

"So, how's yer drink, dear?"

Maybe not. He carefully places his drink down. "I'm not above shooting you, honey."

"Wouldn't be the first time, darlin'."

A stinging pain sings in his chest at that. "I have never once shot you." He lifts the cup, realises, stops. "Had people shoot at you, yes. But I've never shot you."

"What's the difference?"

"I won't miss." He tilts his head. "Sweetheart."

Oh, that was a very noteworthy reaction. Those ears shot up, slowly turning a slightly darker shade of purple. Then his gaze flicked away as he coughed into his fist. 

Well. That was interesting.

He's going to have to remember that one.

-_-_-

They hear a name, one that just so happens to be the name of their mark they need to assess. And turns out it's the sleaze ball that tried to poison him.

They devise a plan, Kal as the bait.

"So let me get this straight." Zeb starts. "Yer gonna let him poison ya, and then practically let him kidnap you? Are ya insane?"

"Do you have a better idea? One that doesn't involve staying here for a week or beating the information out of him?"

Zeb puts at that, clearly not on board with the plan. "I just don't like it. What if he gets away and I lose ya?"

"Then don't lose me," is his answer. Simple as that. "I trust you Zeb."

-_-_- 

The plan works. They stage a fight, pretend to be a couple having a spat, and the guy makes a beeline for Kal as soon as he's alone and looking pissed off enough to make some bad decisions. He takes the drink this time, fights his gag reflex at the thought and taste, and off the world went. Thoughts melting and fizzling uncomfortably in his head, reality seeming to shift slightly to the left a little too much, and then he's moving, being moved, his words are slurring as he asks where they're going, playing the part of the captured damsel perfectly, placing every piece of faith he had in Zeb coming after him.

Things feel both hot and cold at the same time when he's being coaxed through what seems like a corridor. Sounds fade and echo in every direction like he's underwater. And then he can't hear anything. He's in a room with a door and he panics when he's pushed down to sit on something plush yet scratchy on his palms. Where is Zeb? How long has it been? Time feels strange, just like it did before in that cell, when they were asking him questions, injecting him with serum after serum and then there was the electricity-

They asked him about the Ghost crew. About Zeb. How long have you known the lasat? When did this infatuation manifest? How long have you been married to-

Married to.

They'd. They'd been married. He'd been married to someone. 

He'd been married to Zeb.

The world that'd been spinning for a good long while comes to a grinding halt. He'd married Zeb. The lasat. In his other life he'd asked the lasat to marry him and he'd said yes. 

He needs to find Zeb. Needs to ask the questions. Needs answers to calm the boiling maelstrom in his brain. Where is he? Why hasn't he come yet? What if he did lose him in an alley somewhere? Oh stars what if that was the last time he ever saw him-

There's a gust of air and suddenly he's cold and it's light again. He feels like a weighted blanket was lifted from him and then there's just a huge fuzzy blob of different purples. He smiles. He knows those purples.

-_-_-

Zeb got there just in time to get the info and punch that asshole's lights out. 

"Zeb?" Kal asks as he scoops the blond up in his arms.

"Aye, it's me Kal."

"Zeb," he breathes as he wraps himself around the lasat. "I missed you." It's a quiet mumble into the fur on his neck, and it has his heart beat skipping and doing somersaults. "Did you miss me? I hope you did."

"Yeah, Kal," he grits out, unsure where to look, where to put his hands. "I missed ya."

"Good."

-_-_-

Zeb manages to get them back to the ship with the info and no further complications, which was a challenge given how vocal Kal was being. Turns out trying to be stealthy down dark alleyways was incredibly difficult while holding a man who thought he was helping by saying everything they did in a, qoute, 'sneaky voice'.

Zeb could've laughed his lungs dry. He would've if the situation hadn't been so damn terrifying not a half hour before. Seeing that man leave with a spaced looking Kal on his arm had been soul crushing, and he had to let it happen. Waiting those last few seconds of torture before following.

He was here now, though. Here safe and sound in his arms. That's all that mattered.

Now to get him to a medic to get that damned poison out of him.

"Zeb?" He asks when he's carefully sat down on the lasat's bunk.

"Yeah, buddy."

"Did I-" he stops, sways to his left, leans heavily on his arm. "I mean, were we...?"

Zeb tenses. He does not want to have whatever that conversation could be, and it shows on his face.

"Kal, we need to get you back home to Yavin."

"But I've got questions," he pouts, and it'd be hilarious if he wasn't asking what Zeb thinks he's asking.

"Ask me when we get home, kay? You just get some rest."

"But-"

Zeb's already gone, a glass of water left in his place.

-_-_-

He's in the pilot's seat when Kal comes to the cockpit, not nearly as stealthily as he thinks he does. Zeb's about to tell him to get back to bed when the man swings around the side of the chair to lean over him, staring him dead in the face when he asks, "Garazeb Orrelios, were we married?"

His heart damn near stops.

"Uhh."

"Because I remember." He continues. "I remember them asking me about it. The Empire, I mean. I remember the pricking and the prodding and the question 'how long have you been married to the lasat'." He leans even closer, both hands on the arm rests. "Now tell me, Zeb. Were we married?"

"Um." He says, intelligently. What the fuck is he supposed to say. 'Yes?' Or 'technically we still are?' Or maybe he should start with 'if ya want it annulled it's sort of an oral thing, so just tell me and we can-' he stops the thought when familiar hands hold his face, not quite gently, but clumsily trying to be.

"How. Did I ever. Manage to be married to a kind, compassionate, handsome man like you?" He sways, slips, lands smack bang in the middle of Zeb's lap. "How? I'm a horrible person! And you're..." he waves his arms around, as if he could gather the words from the air. He finally settles for just gesturing at Zeb. "You!"

And Zeb... he really doesn't know what to do right now. His hands remain fused to the armrests as Kal settles in his lap as if it's the most natural thing in the world. And at one point it might have been, and that felt simultaneously like yesterday and a lifetime ago. He wants to hold him, pull him closer, comfort him like he so desperately seems to want, what with how he curls into the lasat's chest like that. The man sighs into his fur, and all goes quiet.

"Kal?" He tries.

Silence stretches, and then there's a soft snore.

Zeb allows himself this. Only for a brief moment, but he does. He slowly pries a hand off the chair and reverently tucks a loose lock of hair behind the man's ear. He looks so peaceful like this, with his face illuminated by the soft yellow glow of the meteorite under his shirt.

Zeb could almost pretend. Almost.

He puts him to bed and high hightails it back to Yavin as fast as possible.


End file.
